


Mama Wilson

by Whedonista93



Series: Wilson Family Values [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Deadpool (2016), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Family, Gen, Mutants, X-Men References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 12:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13997949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whedonista93/pseuds/Whedonista93
Summary: “Even a Slayer can’t take all of us. And besides, we’re all human. You won’t kill us.”“Do not make the mistake of thinking we all share the Queen Slayer’s morals."





	Mama Wilson

**Author's Note:**

> As ALWAYS, thank you aggiepuff for the beta. I will never figure out how I ever wrote without you.

Since Nat’s discovery of who was behind forcing Wade’s mutation, Rona had moved into the Tower full time. She spent her time quietly utilizing her powers to familiarize herself with the feel of the Tower and its day-to-day workers and residents. She spent her nights patrolling the halls instead of going out and patrolling graveyards. She called in a favor with Willow, who called in a favor with a local coven to ward the Tower. She made tactical plans with JARVIS and Natasha. She did everything she could think of, and she still didn’t feel as though it was enough.

Regardless of feeling unprepared, she knew the moment the group of scum she’d been waiting for stepped into the Tower. Why did the bastards have to hit during movie night?

 

Rona shot up from her slump on the couch. “JARVIS.”

 

“I am aware of the intrusion. Initiating Ajax Protocol, Mrs. Wilson,” the AI assured smoothly.

 

“Thank you, JARVIS.”

 

“What the fuck is Ajax Protocol?” Tony sat up and glared at her. “I didn’t program an Ajax Protocol.”

 

“No, I did,” Natasha interjected, guns appearing in both hands.

 

“Where’s Wade?” Rona stood, barely quelling her panic as he wandered back in from the kitchen.

 

“Wha’?” the mercenary managed to ask around a mouthful of popcorn.

 

Rona shook her head. “Nothin’, baby. Do me a favor and go to my room.”

 

Wade swallowed and looked at her with wide-eyed vulnerability. “Am I in trouble?”

 

“No sweetie,” Rona reassured, “but someone else is about to be, and I’ll feel better if I know you’re safe.”

 

Wade scoffed. “I can take care of myself, auntie.”

 

“I know you can, baby, but let me do it just this once?”

 

Wade looked at her funny, but eventually shrugged and turned toward the elevators.

 

“JARVIS?” Rona looked up at the ceiling about two minutes later.

 

JARVIS’ tone was reassuring. “Safely locked in your room, Mrs. Wilson. And the intruders will be at the training room in approximately seven minutes.”

 

“Intruders?!” Tony bellowed, diving for the nearest tablet.

 

Rona snatched it away before he could reach it.

 

He gaped up at her.

 

Natasha bumped his shoulder gently. “Relax. We’ve been waiting for this. We’ve got it. If you ask JARVIS nicely, I bet he’ll even put it up on the big screen for you.”

 

* * *

  


So late at night, even the halls of the Tower were all but a ghost town. It took Rona and Nat next to no time to reach the lower level training room where JARVIS was corralling the bad guys.

 

“I still wish you’d tell me what you’re planning, тетушка,” Nat muttered as she stationed herself in the shadows on the wall farthest from the door.

 

Rona just shot her a small smile before dropping down to sit cross-legged in the middle of the room. She closed her eyes, and for the first time ever in the Tower, she loosened the reins on her _other_ gifts - the ones completely independent from her Slayer gifts. She reached out and up and let herself feel the pain and loss and rage that all the Avengers have in spades - those feelings that they kept a lid on, but couldn’t hide from her - and she took them, let them build and swirl beneath her skin. Her own rage built the more she gleaned from her little group of adopted heros.

 

“What the fuck is this?”

 

Rona’s eyes snapped open and landed on the head goon as the rest fanned out around her. In some distant part of her mind, she appreciated the battle tact, but it wouldn’t do them any good. She remained silent.

 

The head goon smiled with too many teeth. “Look, lady, we just want the mouthy merc and the Asset. Nobody has to get hurt.”

 

Rona’s gaze grew hard. “They’ve already been hurt.”

 

“And no one else has to be if you just turn them over.”

 

Rona stood slowly. “My name is Rona Wilson. I am a Slayer.” She elbowed the goon trying to sneak up behind her, crushed his nose into his brain and didn’t grimace at the blood that splashed her arm. She grinned when the assorted goons took a collective step back.

 

The head goon’s smile fell off his face. “What does the Council have to do with the Avengers and a mouthy freak?”

 

“Nothing,” Rona shrugged, “but I’m also a mother and an aunt; the mouthy freak is my nephew and I’m pretty fucking fond of him.”

 

The head goon shrugged back. “Even a Slayer can’t take all of us. And besides, we’re all human. You won’t kill us.”

 

Rona laughed in mock sympathy. “Do _not_ make the mistake of thinking we all share the Queen Slayer’s morals. We are not a hive mind and you will be _painfully_ disappointed if you assume we are.”

 

He took a step forward. “You still can’t take us all.”

 

Rona grinned savagely and let the emotion swirling just under her skin loose on the goons surrounding her. Every single one of them except the bossman dropped to the ground, and he quickly backpedaled. Rona focused another blast of emotion, mostly pain, directly at him, just enough to bring him to his knees. She strode forward and chucked his chin up. “I’m also a mutant, much like my favorite nephew,” her tone was droll, as if she was giving a lecture, "but where he’s strong, fast and invulnerable, I deal with emotions. The common term is empath. Are you familiar with the physical and emotional pain your brand of human experimentation causes?”

 

The goon’s glare faltered and he shuffled back a bit.

 

“I’m going to take that as a yes. What you’ve experienced so far is _maybe_ about a tenth of that. I haven’t even _touched_ Bucky and Wade’s pain yet. You’re going to tell me exactly what I want to know, or I am going to subject you to a very concentrated dose of that pain. Over and over again, until you tell me what I want to know anyway.”

 

“I suggest you cooperate,” Nat advised as she emerged from the shadows, guns aimed at his head.

  



End file.
